We are family, all God’s children are we.
Today, are reminded that each one of us is a child of God.
It is with purpose that we take time each year to not only stimulate thought and memories about our fathers, but also to think about our relation to the God of the faith we profess.
Well, today is Father’s Day – my guess is that we will celebrate Father’s Day at our house, pretty much like you will celebrate Father’s Day at your house.
About like any other day.
Some wag said, you know, Father’s Day is just like Mother’s Day, except you don’t have to buy presents.
Bill Cosby claims that Mother's Day is much bigger deal because women are more organized than men.
Mothers say to their children, "Now here is a list of what I want. Go get the money from your father and you surprise me on Mother's Day."
Bill Cosby even goes so far as to suggest that Father's Day is almost as exciting as Ground Hog Day.
Among the many problems that he discloses about this observance is the issue of buying a present for Dad.
Among the dumbest gifts that Cosby has received on this day of obligatory recognition is soap-on-a-rope – a remembrance which ranks slightly higher than the time he received a thousand yards of dental floss.
There have been other thoughtful gifts, such as a sweater in June (it was on sale), the hedge cutters, weed trimmers and plumbing snakes.
But, according to Cosby, "even General Patton would have lacked the courage to give his mother soap-on-a-rope."
One of my favorite Calvin and Hobbes comics has Calvin and his Dad outside walking in a beautiful sunny day, and Calvin looks up and says:
“Hey Dad, what are clouds made of?”
And his father looks somewhat stumped, and says “Hmm. I used to know that. I think they are mostly water.”
And Calvin says, “So how come they float?”
And his Dad says: “Well, it’s sort of evaporated water. Maybe there are other gases, too. I’m not sure.”
Then Calvin says: “So why are they white, when the rest of the sky is blue?”
And his Dad says, “Heck, beats me. I guess we ought to look this stuff up.”
And then Calvin says, “I take it there’s no qualifying exam to be a Dad.”
Dad's don't get the respect that they used to. Remember "Father Knows Best."
For many fathers, those were the good old days. Recently a college professor conducted a careful, two year study that asked children aged four to six: "Which do you like better, TV or Daddy?"
Forty-six percent of the youngsters indicated that they preferred television.
I like the story about the ten-year-old boy who answered the doorbell at his home one day.
When he opened it, there stood a strange man on the porch.
The man said, "Son, you don't know me, do you?" The young man said, no, he did not.
The man replied, "Well, I am your uncle on your father's side."
To which the young fellow replied, "Well, I am glad to meet you, but you are certainly on the losing side."
So it is with purpose that we take time each year to not only stimulate thought and memories about our fathers, but also to think about our relation to the God of the faith we profess.
A major thrust of the Bible is the proclamation of this God that is in relationship to the people of the stories and to us.
Here at Christ Church for probably 15 years or so, we have boldly put this relationship out front to each other and to anyone who walks into our worship in many ways:
every single week our bulletin proclaims an acclamation that all are welcome here – we are family, all God’s children are we.
And we always end our service singing the words
with God as our Father, family all are we.
Perhaps the most succinct statement of this relationship is in this passage from Paul’s letter to the believers in Galatia:
For in Christ Jesus you are all children of God through faith.
As many of you as were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ.
There is no longer Jew nor Greek,
there is no longer slave nor free,
there is no longer male nor female;
for all of you are one in Christ Jesus.
And if you belong to Christ, then you are Abraham’s offspring, heirs according to the promise.
Here, you and I are reminded, that each one of us is a child of God.
“For in Christ Jesus you are all children of God through faith,” writes Paul.
We are Children of God.
We are family.
God loves us even more than our earthly mothers and fathers.
God loves us without reservations, conditions, or restraints.
It doesn’t matter who we are.
Paul writes: “As many of you as were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ.
There is no longer Jew or Greek,
there is no longer slave or free,
there is no longer male and female;
for all of you are one in Christ Jesus.”
It doesn’t matter who we are, God loves us.
This passage from Galatians reminds us that we are all children of God.
Each and every one of us is a child of God.
Rather than letting our lives get bogged down in jealousy or envy or mistrust,
or worrying about the differences between men and women,
let's go out and claim the rich inheritance that is ours by the grace of God.
Four ministers were talking one day about translations of the Bible.
One said, "I like the King James Version best.
The beauty of the language and the rhythm of the cadence is unsurpassed."
Another said, "I like the Revised Standard Version because it is the closest to the actual Greek and Hebrew tongues."
Another said, "I like the Good News Bible because it is easy to read."
The fourth thought a moment and then he said,
"Of all the translations, I think I like my father''s the best."
One said, "You mean your father has translated the Bible?"
He said, "Oh yes, everyday he translated the Bible to me in his life of love, compassion, forgiveness and sacrifice.
Because of his translation, I am a Christian today."
Yep, you and I are bible translators.
You and I are faith proclaimers.
As Augustine observed long ago, you and I may not use words all the time, but we are constantly acting as bible translators by the way we treat others,
by the lives we lead.
What is being observed when folks see you?
Friends, you and I are children of God.
We are family.
We are loved without limits or reservation.
And when you think about that a while it will change your life.
Appropriate thoughts, I think for a Father’s Day.
Amen.
This sermon was a part of a worship service at Christ Presbyterian Church at Drexel Hill, Pennsylvania, USA, Fathers' Day, June 19, 2011.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Pentecost Power
You and I are 2,000 years and many thousands of miles removed from the room where the disciples met that first Pentecost,
but this violent wind,
this Spirit of the Living God,
has blown its way from that room into our lives.
That is the best evidence we have that God was there.
The wind continues to blow.
The spirit continues to empower and lead.
So far this year there have been 1,458 tornadoes reported in this country!
They have been exceptionally destructive and deadly this year.
Apparently, the unusualness of this year’s tornadoes is that they have been more larger ones than ever before, and they are striking nearer to places where people live.
Most tornadoes – even most of the 1,458 this year – occur in areas were very few or no people live and so few people actually experience one as a general rule.
But this year has been different.
Many tornadoes struck heavily populated areas where more damage was done, and more people experienced the tremendous power of the event – up close and personal.
And many took pictures.
We have all seen more than one video and audio recordings that came out from one or more of the recent tornadoes in Alabama, Missouri, Oklahoma, Massachusetts, or Pennsylvania.
Hearing about the force of the wind of a tornado – even seeing pictures of the damage it leaves behind – doesn’t really to justice to the force and sheer power of the wind storm as reported by the tornado survivors.
I thought of the images of the pictures, videos and stories I saw and heard in the past few weeks as I read the first few verses of today’s lesson:
“When the day of Pentecost had come, they were all together in one place.
And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting . . .”
A violent wind . . .
The kind of wind that uproots trees,
The kind of wind that turns over mobile homes.
The kind of wind that destroys schools and hospitals,
homes and businesses,
yes, churches and even street markers.
The kind of wind that fills men and women with awe and wonder.
It may be that the writer of Acts is speaking metaphorically here.
After all, the word “spirit” is the same word as the word “wind.”
He may have been saying that the spirit was present in a powerful way.
But I like to visualize the special effects.
I like to think of the wind shaking paintings on the wall, perhaps slinging them to the floor.
I like to think of the Apostle John’s hair being blown and Simon Peter trying to keep his napkin on the table.
(Of course, John may have been bald.
And Simon Peter may have wiped his mouth on his sleeve, since we view him as such a crude man. Nobody knows.)
All we know is there was a violent wind . . .
But wait there’s more: “Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them . . .”
Well, for sure, this is no run-of-the-mill worship service, is it?
Can you imagine what would happen if a violent wind whipped through this room while we were here together
and if tongues of fire rested on our heads?
It sounds more like a scene from a movie like Lord of the Rings than it does any worship service I’ve ever been a part of.
(Maybe that’s why people fill movie houses on Saturday night and sleep late on Sunday morning.)
“Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them . . .”
“All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability . . .”
This is exciting stuff.
The disciples began to speak in other languages.
“Now there were devout Jews from every nation under heaven living in Jerusalem.
And at this sound the crowd gathered and was bewildered, because each one heard them speaking in the native language of each . . .”
This is much more significant than the violent wind or the tongues of fire.
Hollywood can produce special effects.
Spectacular visual displays – no matter how much we may enjoy them as part of the narrative – are not evidence of God’s presence.
Some people do seem to want to have their religion that way, don’t they?
It has to be big.
It has to challenge the senses and defy logic.
But when ordinary people can transcend the dividing lines of language and race and even religion,
when ordinary people can look at one another as children of the Most High without regard to how they look,
or how much education they have,
or how they talk –
that’s when you know that God is surely involved.
It doesn’t sell a lot of tickets, but it’s real.
It’s life-changing.
More importantly, it honors God.
You see, it was this experience of God in this way, that really brought those first Christians to life.
It was this that gave them the strength to know Love as they had never known it before.
This experience was the most important thing in their lives,
and it is the most important thing in our lives, as well.
That’s why I give so much attention to it each year.
When the New Testament writers talk about God, they are expressing the Love of God as they have experienced it:
in the beauty of the sky, and the sea, and the mountains,
and the sun, and the rocks,
and bread, and water,
and human beings –
all the incredible things that make up the Creator's world.
They had a deep sense of God's Presence at the center of all these things.
Even things that didn't seem to be alive,
were alive with God's Presence.
That great cellist, Pablo Cassals, wrote:
"Every human being is a miracle of the Creator. The world is a miracle that only God could make.
"Think of how no two grains of sand are alike. Think of how there is not one nose [like another],
[not] one voice like another.
Think of how, among billions and billions of living and non-living things in the Universe,
no two are exactly alike.
"Who but God could do that.
God is present all the time.
Nothing can take that from us."
These are the words of one of history's most sensitive artists talking about his experience of God the Creator of all that is.
All around us everything is vibrant and alive with the Creator's Presence.
This is what the New Testament writers are saying. But that is only the beginning.
What happened to the New Testament Christians is that when Jesus came into their midst, they experienced God in a new, intense way that was so overwhelming, so healing, so fulfilling,
they couldn't contain it within themselves.
They had to get the Good News out to the whole world.
What they realized had happened is that God the Creator, who loved them so much, was present in their friend, Jesus,
and now, even though they saw him dead,
their friend was actually present in their midst,
as the perfect Model of what life is all about.
Then, remarkably, those New Testament Christians had still another overwhelming experience of God's Presence.
Something new had happened.
They said it was like the wind rushing through.
They said it was like fire, warm and alive, and penetrating.
They discovered that this "Pentecost" experience was an empowering experience.
They were able to stand up before kings and emperors, and speak as they had never spoken before.
The Spirit of God had penetrated their beings at a deeper level than ever before.
Pentecost is a unique celebration in this respect.
Even the resurrection was viewed only by people who already believed in Jesus.
But on the day of Pentecost “devout Jews from every nation under heaven living in Jerusalem” heard the disciples each in their own native language.
Amazed and astonished, they asked, “Are not all these who are speaking Galileans?
And how is it that we hear, each of us, in our own native language?”
You see, this is the church at its best – cutting across the lines that separate people from one another.
This is what God intends the church to be –
a fellowship that reaches out to all.
The church was never intended to be a cloistered elite.
We are called to connect people – all people –
to God.
A rabbi tells an ancient story of a man who approached the high priest at the Holy Temple in Jerusalem.
This man begged to be allowed to enter the Holy of Holies, “the most sacred place in the entire Temple.”
This sacred space was said to be the place where the high priest went to meet God.
This simple man so desired to stand in the presence of God.
But long ago, God had decreed that only the high priest might enter the Holy of Holies.
So the high priest turned the man away.
The man continued to beg, so the high priest made a deal with him.
If the man would serve in the Temple for the next 20 years, then he would be allowed into the Holy of Holies.
Amazingly, the man agreed to the deal.
So the high priest assigned the man the most menial tasks, such as sweeping the floors and taking out the garbage.
He fully expected the man to give up and go home.
But the man continued faithfully in his work for 20 years.
Finally, the high priest had to admit the man to the Holy of Holies.
He took the man to the secret door in the Temple and announced,
“Open this door and walk through it.
When you walk through this door, you will enter into the Holy of Holies,
our most sacred space,
the place where God is present in the most real way,
the place where you will meet your God.”
The man turned the handle and stepped through the sacred door.
And there . . . . . he found himself outside,
on the dusty streets of Jerusalem.
Vendors were selling meats and carpets.
Children were chasing one another.
Mothers were gossiping and fathers were haggling.
– And it was as if the man were walking on holy ground.
For the first time in his life, he saw God in the midst of ordinary chaos.
You see, really, this is the church at its best.
We are not an otherworldly faith.
We don’t seclude ourselves in cloistered enclaves where we shut out the rest of the world while we prepare ourselves for a heavenly voyage.
Our calling is to reach out to the world.
When the disciples bore witness to their faith,
they spoke in languages that everyday passers-by could comprehend.
This is a sign to us – we are not the church turned inward on itself.
We are the church reaching out to the world.
Speaking languages everyday passers-by might understand – including those understood by the users of the internet.
One of the most remarkable stories in literature is the story of the love for one another that enveloped the church at Pentecost.
These early believers ate together,
they sang together,
they prayed together;
they looked after widows and orphans in their midst.
A major part of the strength of their witness was how they lived out their love for one another.
It’s good to remind ourselves each year at Pentecost of the ties that bind the body of Christ together.
“By this,” said our Lord, “shall the world know that you are my disciples, that you love one another.” The early church reached outward to the world and inward to one another.
The Day of Pentecost was no mere sociological event.
Something mysterious happened that day.
The Spirit of the living God fell upon some ordinary men and women who did extraordinary things from that day forward.
They were people not much different from you and me.
They weren’t well educated in a worldly sense, but they had studied, nonetheless, under the greatest teacher of all.
And now that his physical presence was gone,
his spiritual presence led them to touch the lives of thousands of people.
I take great hope from that fact.
The church uses human efforts –
it did then, it does now.
For sure, our own church could not carry out its mission without the work of many of you who give sacrificially.
Still, it is comforting to know that the church is ultimately not dependent on human efforts.
The church is of God.
God created the church and God will sustain the church.
“When the day of Pentecost had come, they were all together in one place.
And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting . . .”
A violent wind scatters things far and wide.
You and I are 2,000 years and many thousands of miles removed from the room where the disciples met that first Pentecost,
but this violent wind,
this Spirit of the Living God,
has blown its way from that room into our lives.
That is the best evidence we have that God was there.
The wind continues to blow.
The spirit continues to empower and lead.
Today, let each of us be reminded of the experience of those early disciples as God’s spirit blew into their midst and empowered them to do great things.
Let each of us come to see where the spirit still blows in our lives in these days in this place.
This sermon was a part of a worship service at Christ Presbyterian Church in Drexel Hill, Pennsylvania, USA, Pentecost Sunday, June 12, 2011.
but this violent wind,
this Spirit of the Living God,
has blown its way from that room into our lives.
That is the best evidence we have that God was there.
The wind continues to blow.
The spirit continues to empower and lead.
So far this year there have been 1,458 tornadoes reported in this country!
They have been exceptionally destructive and deadly this year.
Apparently, the unusualness of this year’s tornadoes is that they have been more larger ones than ever before, and they are striking nearer to places where people live.
Most tornadoes – even most of the 1,458 this year – occur in areas were very few or no people live and so few people actually experience one as a general rule.
But this year has been different.
Many tornadoes struck heavily populated areas where more damage was done, and more people experienced the tremendous power of the event – up close and personal.
And many took pictures.
We have all seen more than one video and audio recordings that came out from one or more of the recent tornadoes in Alabama, Missouri, Oklahoma, Massachusetts, or Pennsylvania.
Hearing about the force of the wind of a tornado – even seeing pictures of the damage it leaves behind – doesn’t really to justice to the force and sheer power of the wind storm as reported by the tornado survivors.
I thought of the images of the pictures, videos and stories I saw and heard in the past few weeks as I read the first few verses of today’s lesson:
“When the day of Pentecost had come, they were all together in one place.
And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting . . .”
A violent wind . . .
The kind of wind that uproots trees,
The kind of wind that turns over mobile homes.
The kind of wind that destroys schools and hospitals,
homes and businesses,
yes, churches and even street markers.
The kind of wind that fills men and women with awe and wonder.
It may be that the writer of Acts is speaking metaphorically here.
After all, the word “spirit” is the same word as the word “wind.”
He may have been saying that the spirit was present in a powerful way.
But I like to visualize the special effects.
I like to think of the wind shaking paintings on the wall, perhaps slinging them to the floor.
I like to think of the Apostle John’s hair being blown and Simon Peter trying to keep his napkin on the table.
(Of course, John may have been bald.
And Simon Peter may have wiped his mouth on his sleeve, since we view him as such a crude man. Nobody knows.)
All we know is there was a violent wind . . .
But wait there’s more: “Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them . . .”
Well, for sure, this is no run-of-the-mill worship service, is it?
Can you imagine what would happen if a violent wind whipped through this room while we were here together
and if tongues of fire rested on our heads?
It sounds more like a scene from a movie like Lord of the Rings than it does any worship service I’ve ever been a part of.
(Maybe that’s why people fill movie houses on Saturday night and sleep late on Sunday morning.)
“Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them . . .”
“All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability . . .”
This is exciting stuff.
The disciples began to speak in other languages.
“Now there were devout Jews from every nation under heaven living in Jerusalem.
And at this sound the crowd gathered and was bewildered, because each one heard them speaking in the native language of each . . .”
This is much more significant than the violent wind or the tongues of fire.
Hollywood can produce special effects.
Spectacular visual displays – no matter how much we may enjoy them as part of the narrative – are not evidence of God’s presence.
Some people do seem to want to have their religion that way, don’t they?
It has to be big.
It has to challenge the senses and defy logic.
But when ordinary people can transcend the dividing lines of language and race and even religion,
when ordinary people can look at one another as children of the Most High without regard to how they look,
or how much education they have,
or how they talk –
that’s when you know that God is surely involved.
It doesn’t sell a lot of tickets, but it’s real.
It’s life-changing.
More importantly, it honors God.
You see, it was this experience of God in this way, that really brought those first Christians to life.
It was this that gave them the strength to know Love as they had never known it before.
This experience was the most important thing in their lives,
and it is the most important thing in our lives, as well.
That’s why I give so much attention to it each year.
When the New Testament writers talk about God, they are expressing the Love of God as they have experienced it:
in the beauty of the sky, and the sea, and the mountains,
and the sun, and the rocks,
and bread, and water,
and human beings –
all the incredible things that make up the Creator's world.
They had a deep sense of God's Presence at the center of all these things.
Even things that didn't seem to be alive,
were alive with God's Presence.
That great cellist, Pablo Cassals, wrote:
"Every human being is a miracle of the Creator. The world is a miracle that only God could make.
"Think of how no two grains of sand are alike. Think of how there is not one nose [like another],
[not] one voice like another.
Think of how, among billions and billions of living and non-living things in the Universe,
no two are exactly alike.
"Who but God could do that.
God is present all the time.
Nothing can take that from us."
These are the words of one of history's most sensitive artists talking about his experience of God the Creator of all that is.
All around us everything is vibrant and alive with the Creator's Presence.
This is what the New Testament writers are saying. But that is only the beginning.
What happened to the New Testament Christians is that when Jesus came into their midst, they experienced God in a new, intense way that was so overwhelming, so healing, so fulfilling,
they couldn't contain it within themselves.
They had to get the Good News out to the whole world.
What they realized had happened is that God the Creator, who loved them so much, was present in their friend, Jesus,
and now, even though they saw him dead,
their friend was actually present in their midst,
as the perfect Model of what life is all about.
Then, remarkably, those New Testament Christians had still another overwhelming experience of God's Presence.
Something new had happened.
They said it was like the wind rushing through.
They said it was like fire, warm and alive, and penetrating.
They discovered that this "Pentecost" experience was an empowering experience.
They were able to stand up before kings and emperors, and speak as they had never spoken before.
The Spirit of God had penetrated their beings at a deeper level than ever before.
Pentecost is a unique celebration in this respect.
Even the resurrection was viewed only by people who already believed in Jesus.
But on the day of Pentecost “devout Jews from every nation under heaven living in Jerusalem” heard the disciples each in their own native language.
Amazed and astonished, they asked, “Are not all these who are speaking Galileans?
And how is it that we hear, each of us, in our own native language?”
You see, this is the church at its best – cutting across the lines that separate people from one another.
This is what God intends the church to be –
a fellowship that reaches out to all.
The church was never intended to be a cloistered elite.
We are called to connect people – all people –
to God.
A rabbi tells an ancient story of a man who approached the high priest at the Holy Temple in Jerusalem.
This man begged to be allowed to enter the Holy of Holies, “the most sacred place in the entire Temple.”
This sacred space was said to be the place where the high priest went to meet God.
This simple man so desired to stand in the presence of God.
But long ago, God had decreed that only the high priest might enter the Holy of Holies.
So the high priest turned the man away.
The man continued to beg, so the high priest made a deal with him.
If the man would serve in the Temple for the next 20 years, then he would be allowed into the Holy of Holies.
Amazingly, the man agreed to the deal.
So the high priest assigned the man the most menial tasks, such as sweeping the floors and taking out the garbage.
He fully expected the man to give up and go home.
But the man continued faithfully in his work for 20 years.
Finally, the high priest had to admit the man to the Holy of Holies.
He took the man to the secret door in the Temple and announced,
“Open this door and walk through it.
When you walk through this door, you will enter into the Holy of Holies,
our most sacred space,
the place where God is present in the most real way,
the place where you will meet your God.”
The man turned the handle and stepped through the sacred door.
And there . . . . . he found himself outside,
on the dusty streets of Jerusalem.
Vendors were selling meats and carpets.
Children were chasing one another.
Mothers were gossiping and fathers were haggling.
– And it was as if the man were walking on holy ground.
For the first time in his life, he saw God in the midst of ordinary chaos.
You see, really, this is the church at its best.
We are not an otherworldly faith.
We don’t seclude ourselves in cloistered enclaves where we shut out the rest of the world while we prepare ourselves for a heavenly voyage.
Our calling is to reach out to the world.
When the disciples bore witness to their faith,
they spoke in languages that everyday passers-by could comprehend.
This is a sign to us – we are not the church turned inward on itself.
We are the church reaching out to the world.
Speaking languages everyday passers-by might understand – including those understood by the users of the internet.
One of the most remarkable stories in literature is the story of the love for one another that enveloped the church at Pentecost.
These early believers ate together,
they sang together,
they prayed together;
they looked after widows and orphans in their midst.
A major part of the strength of their witness was how they lived out their love for one another.
It’s good to remind ourselves each year at Pentecost of the ties that bind the body of Christ together.
“By this,” said our Lord, “shall the world know that you are my disciples, that you love one another.” The early church reached outward to the world and inward to one another.
The Day of Pentecost was no mere sociological event.
Something mysterious happened that day.
The Spirit of the living God fell upon some ordinary men and women who did extraordinary things from that day forward.
They were people not much different from you and me.
They weren’t well educated in a worldly sense, but they had studied, nonetheless, under the greatest teacher of all.
And now that his physical presence was gone,
his spiritual presence led them to touch the lives of thousands of people.
I take great hope from that fact.
The church uses human efforts –
it did then, it does now.
For sure, our own church could not carry out its mission without the work of many of you who give sacrificially.
Still, it is comforting to know that the church is ultimately not dependent on human efforts.
The church is of God.
God created the church and God will sustain the church.
“When the day of Pentecost had come, they were all together in one place.
And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting . . .”
A violent wind scatters things far and wide.
You and I are 2,000 years and many thousands of miles removed from the room where the disciples met that first Pentecost,
but this violent wind,
this Spirit of the Living God,
has blown its way from that room into our lives.
That is the best evidence we have that God was there.
The wind continues to blow.
The spirit continues to empower and lead.
Today, let each of us be reminded of the experience of those early disciples as God’s spirit blew into their midst and empowered them to do great things.
Let each of us come to see where the spirit still blows in our lives in these days in this place.
This sermon was a part of a worship service at Christ Presbyterian Church in Drexel Hill, Pennsylvania, USA, Pentecost Sunday, June 12, 2011.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
The Feast Is Prepared, The Table Is Set, Your Invitation Is Here
"Blessed is everyone who will feast in the kingdom of God!"
Time and time again, it is in the mealtime context that Jesus points the way to our spiritual nourishment.
The new covenant is about living in the kingdom of heaven.
The kingdom of God is about a way of life – here and now – not about waiting and dreaming of times to come.
To those folks in Galilee so long ago, Jesus said in effect, "If you truly want to fill up on life, then fill up on Me.
Feed on Me, for I am the life-sustaining Bread you long for. "
God spreads a sumptuous banquet before us,
and we nibble around the edges.
God fills our cup to overflowing,
but we scarcely take a sip.
Jesus concludes his story about what the kingdom of heaven is like by passing on the comment of a hearer: "How fortunate the one who gets to eat dinner in God's kingdom!"
"How fortunate the one who gets to eat dinner in God's kingdom!"
Two tourists were busy seeing the sights in Milan, Italy.
They were particularly interested in seeing Leonardo da Vinci's painting, "The Last Supper."
They tried to follow the vague directions given to them by the hotel desk clerk, but they soon became lost. Since they spoke no Italian, their several attempts to question passers-by ended in failure.
Finally, they drew a rough sketch of "The Last Supper" on a pad, and showed it to the next two persons who passed by.
And twice the directions they received led them, not to the museum, but to nearby restaurants.
It's easy to imagine that if Jesus were physically present in Drexel Hill town today, we might find Him in a restaurant (right?), sharing a meal with friends.
For example, in the last chapter of John's Gospel, Simon Peter and several of Jesus' friends decide to go fishing, remember?
All night they fish and catch nothing.
Then, the Risen Jesus appears on the shore and calls out, "Throw the net out to starboard and you'll find something" (Jn. 21:6).
They follow the instructions and immediately catch more fish than they can handle.
Whereupon Simon Peter cries out, "It is the Lord," and he jumps into the water and rushes to Jesus.
When the other disciples come ashore, they see that Jesus has some bread there, and a charcoal fire with fish cooking on it.
And, in the midst of it all, Jesus says in effect, "Let's eat!"
Actually, He says to them, "Come and have breakfast" (John. 21:12).
There are many other New Testament scenes in which Jesus shares a meal with others.
On one occasion, He goes down to a wedding feast with His mother and some friends.
On another occasion, He sits down at a table and shares a meal with extortionists and prostitutes among others.
And in that most familiar story, in a single sitting, He feeds a hungry crowd of more than five thousand people. "They all ate as much as they wanted, and when the scraps remaining were collected they filled twelve baskets" (Luke. 9:17).
In setting down the story of Jesus' ministry,
the New Testament writers seem to place a certain emphasis on mealtimes – bodily nourishment – obviously with good reason.
For as we know, it is often in the mealtime context that Jesus points the way to our spiritual nourishment.
It was during the Passover Meal – the "Last Supper" – that Jesus instructed His Apostles to never forget that he will forever be the Source of spiritual nourishment.
As they sat at the table, Jesus broke the bread and shared it with the Apostles, saying, "This is My Body which will be given for you; do this as a memorial of Me" (Luke. 22:19).
Jesus had told them earlier, "I am the Bread of Life. He who comes to Me will never be hungry" (John. 6:35).
The ancient story of the faith is that God told Noah that the rainbow was placed in the clouds to remind all of the covenant God made with all living things on the Earth.
And we remember that Jesus picked up on this promise during his last supper with his disciples when he told them that God has renewed this covenant to be a part of the everyday life of everyday people everyday – nevermore to feel abandoned or alone – and that the cup they were sharing was a sign of this new covenant –
a new covenant that was going to sealed with his blood .
This is how it was then.
This is how it is now.
The new covenant is about living in the kingdom of heaven.
The kingdom of God is about a way of life – here and now – not about waiting and dreaming of times to come.
So the observer could say: "Blessed is everyone who will feast in the kingdom of God!"
You see, this is a statement of faith.
That’s what this whole thing we celebrate here today is: a statement of faith.
The feast is prepared,
the table is set,
the invitations have gone out,
Jesus said.
And you and I are invited!
You and I get to sit at the table and partake of common elements –
together in unity with others of faith –
in all times and all places.
At the table of the Lord, we say.
It’s a statement of faith.
It’s a pretty arrogant statement when you think about it.
What right do we have to claim to be in the presence of the Lord?
What right do we have to say we’ve gotten an invitation?
What right do we have to be here at all?
By rights, I, for one, am very uncomfortable in the Presence of the Lord.
But, by faith I know the invitation has been given.
By faith, I know the Lord is present here –
and wherever I go,
whatever I do.
By faith, I know that this table is a sign of the Kingdom of God –
a new covenant God made with us through Jesus.
By faith, we are here.
You know you are here.
You know I am here.
And as you look around, you may know who else is here.
But I really don’t think is very obvious who we – as a group – are.
As we look around the room, some of us are local residents – living within walking distance of the church.
Some of us live too far to walk, yet close enough to be considered near.
Some of us are what might be called commuters –
some driving great distances to be here and be a part of this worshiping fellowship.
Some of our congregation are older – some 18 of our members are over 70.
But there are an equal number of folks that worship here regularly who are under 50.
Some of our congregation have young children.
Some of our congregation have been attending Presbyterian worship their whole lives,
some had never been inside a Presbyterian church before they found us.
A question I ask often is “Would any of the people of this congregation have found a place to worship if we weren’t here doing what we do?
Lord knows, there are plenty of other places to worship – if you drove here today, you passed by many many other churches.
But, as I look at it, there are very few who take seriously the movement of Biblical studies of the past 50 years or so,
and seek to incorporate them into the sermons and liturgies and songs and prayers.
And there are even fewer who take seriously what recent scientific studies tell us about communication
and what makes us human
and how our body and mind and soul are wrapped into a whole.
And, I really don’t know of any others that custom designs a Sunday School curriculum to introduce the stories of our faith in a way that is meaningful to a young child.
Well, I could go on . . .
But my intention was to stimulate your thinking a little bit about
who we are as a church,
and what makes us different,
and what strengths we might play to
as we deal with the questions of the day.
So, I am going to stop now so we can celebrate this symbol of the great feast to come –
to which all of you –
and even I – are invited.
For, as the observer noted:
"The greatest blessing of all is to be at the banquet in God's kingdom!"
This sermon was a part of a worship service at Christ Presbyterian Church in Drexel Hill, Pennsylvania, USA, June 5, 2011.
Time and time again, it is in the mealtime context that Jesus points the way to our spiritual nourishment.
The new covenant is about living in the kingdom of heaven.
The kingdom of God is about a way of life – here and now – not about waiting and dreaming of times to come.
To those folks in Galilee so long ago, Jesus said in effect, "If you truly want to fill up on life, then fill up on Me.
Feed on Me, for I am the life-sustaining Bread you long for. "
God spreads a sumptuous banquet before us,
and we nibble around the edges.
God fills our cup to overflowing,
but we scarcely take a sip.
Jesus concludes his story about what the kingdom of heaven is like by passing on the comment of a hearer: "How fortunate the one who gets to eat dinner in God's kingdom!"
"How fortunate the one who gets to eat dinner in God's kingdom!"
Two tourists were busy seeing the sights in Milan, Italy.
They were particularly interested in seeing Leonardo da Vinci's painting, "The Last Supper."
They tried to follow the vague directions given to them by the hotel desk clerk, but they soon became lost. Since they spoke no Italian, their several attempts to question passers-by ended in failure.
Finally, they drew a rough sketch of "The Last Supper" on a pad, and showed it to the next two persons who passed by.
And twice the directions they received led them, not to the museum, but to nearby restaurants.
It's easy to imagine that if Jesus were physically present in Drexel Hill town today, we might find Him in a restaurant (right?), sharing a meal with friends.
For example, in the last chapter of John's Gospel, Simon Peter and several of Jesus' friends decide to go fishing, remember?
All night they fish and catch nothing.
Then, the Risen Jesus appears on the shore and calls out, "Throw the net out to starboard and you'll find something" (Jn. 21:6).
They follow the instructions and immediately catch more fish than they can handle.
Whereupon Simon Peter cries out, "It is the Lord," and he jumps into the water and rushes to Jesus.
When the other disciples come ashore, they see that Jesus has some bread there, and a charcoal fire with fish cooking on it.
And, in the midst of it all, Jesus says in effect, "Let's eat!"
Actually, He says to them, "Come and have breakfast" (John. 21:12).
There are many other New Testament scenes in which Jesus shares a meal with others.
On one occasion, He goes down to a wedding feast with His mother and some friends.
On another occasion, He sits down at a table and shares a meal with extortionists and prostitutes among others.
And in that most familiar story, in a single sitting, He feeds a hungry crowd of more than five thousand people. "They all ate as much as they wanted, and when the scraps remaining were collected they filled twelve baskets" (Luke. 9:17).
In setting down the story of Jesus' ministry,
the New Testament writers seem to place a certain emphasis on mealtimes – bodily nourishment – obviously with good reason.
For as we know, it is often in the mealtime context that Jesus points the way to our spiritual nourishment.
It was during the Passover Meal – the "Last Supper" – that Jesus instructed His Apostles to never forget that he will forever be the Source of spiritual nourishment.
As they sat at the table, Jesus broke the bread and shared it with the Apostles, saying, "This is My Body which will be given for you; do this as a memorial of Me" (Luke. 22:19).
Jesus had told them earlier, "I am the Bread of Life. He who comes to Me will never be hungry" (John. 6:35).
The ancient story of the faith is that God told Noah that the rainbow was placed in the clouds to remind all of the covenant God made with all living things on the Earth.
And we remember that Jesus picked up on this promise during his last supper with his disciples when he told them that God has renewed this covenant to be a part of the everyday life of everyday people everyday – nevermore to feel abandoned or alone – and that the cup they were sharing was a sign of this new covenant –
a new covenant that was going to sealed with his blood .
This is how it was then.
This is how it is now.
The new covenant is about living in the kingdom of heaven.
The kingdom of God is about a way of life – here and now – not about waiting and dreaming of times to come.
So the observer could say: "Blessed is everyone who will feast in the kingdom of God!"
You see, this is a statement of faith.
That’s what this whole thing we celebrate here today is: a statement of faith.
The feast is prepared,
the table is set,
the invitations have gone out,
Jesus said.
And you and I are invited!
You and I get to sit at the table and partake of common elements –
together in unity with others of faith –
in all times and all places.
At the table of the Lord, we say.
It’s a statement of faith.
It’s a pretty arrogant statement when you think about it.
What right do we have to claim to be in the presence of the Lord?
What right do we have to say we’ve gotten an invitation?
What right do we have to be here at all?
By rights, I, for one, am very uncomfortable in the Presence of the Lord.
But, by faith I know the invitation has been given.
By faith, I know the Lord is present here –
and wherever I go,
whatever I do.
By faith, I know that this table is a sign of the Kingdom of God –
a new covenant God made with us through Jesus.
By faith, we are here.
You know you are here.
You know I am here.
And as you look around, you may know who else is here.
But I really don’t think is very obvious who we – as a group – are.
As we look around the room, some of us are local residents – living within walking distance of the church.
Some of us live too far to walk, yet close enough to be considered near.
Some of us are what might be called commuters –
some driving great distances to be here and be a part of this worshiping fellowship.
Some of our congregation are older – some 18 of our members are over 70.
But there are an equal number of folks that worship here regularly who are under 50.
Some of our congregation have young children.
Some of our congregation have been attending Presbyterian worship their whole lives,
some had never been inside a Presbyterian church before they found us.
A question I ask often is “Would any of the people of this congregation have found a place to worship if we weren’t here doing what we do?
Lord knows, there are plenty of other places to worship – if you drove here today, you passed by many many other churches.
But, as I look at it, there are very few who take seriously the movement of Biblical studies of the past 50 years or so,
and seek to incorporate them into the sermons and liturgies and songs and prayers.
And there are even fewer who take seriously what recent scientific studies tell us about communication
and what makes us human
and how our body and mind and soul are wrapped into a whole.
And, I really don’t know of any others that custom designs a Sunday School curriculum to introduce the stories of our faith in a way that is meaningful to a young child.
Well, I could go on . . .
But my intention was to stimulate your thinking a little bit about
who we are as a church,
and what makes us different,
and what strengths we might play to
as we deal with the questions of the day.
So, I am going to stop now so we can celebrate this symbol of the great feast to come –
to which all of you –
and even I – are invited.
For, as the observer noted:
"The greatest blessing of all is to be at the banquet in God's kingdom!"
This sermon was a part of a worship service at Christ Presbyterian Church in Drexel Hill, Pennsylvania, USA, June 5, 2011.
Monday, June 20, 2011
Celebrating Our Presbyterian Heritage
For them, God was real.
Their faith was important.
It informed their whole way of life.
Life outside of faith was no life.
Today, Presbyterian Churches are encouraged to give some consideration to our heritage.
As you may know, Presbyterians were among the earliest immigrants to America.
They settled up and down the east coast, and began to push westward into the American wilderness, founding congregations as early as the 1630s.
For the most part, these folks came from Scotland – some of whom stopped in Ireland first.
These folks from Scotland were a hardy lot – and they, as we might say, had been through the wars.
Maybe it is ingrained into their nature, but Scotsmen don’t like to be told to do things.
And when they heard about the teachings of this new Christianity that was being taught in Switzerland that seemed to empower individuals and their local congregations with unique authority – it was Katie, bar the door.
The Scotsmen resented England.
The Scotsmen resented Frenchmen.
The Scotsmen resented all attempts by the King of England to exert control over their local churches.
Their stubbornness and refusal to take orders from outside authority resulted in periodic excommunication of all the churches in Scotland by the pope.
(This would happen with some regularity through the years.)
The history of Britain and Scotland and their troubles with the church in Rome is the subject for another day, but by the time John Knox was born in Scotland around 1514, church troubles were brewing all around the countryside.
John Knox got caught in an early upheaval –
a demonstration by the common folks turned ugly when a group of them stormed a castle occupied by a bishop of Rome.
In the heat of the demonstration, the bishop was killed.
The demonstrators, for some reason, holed themselves up in the castle.
And there they were, kind of like the Alamo.
Isolated and out of touch with any outside suppliers of food and water.
The king appealed to his French family, and they came and stormed the castle in short order.
And this young Scottish firebrand, John Knox was taken prisoner.
As luck would have it, after a few years in captivity, he found himself in Geneva where he became a star pupil of John Calvin and observed first hand John Calvin’s vision of a theocratic government in the city of Geneva.
Through a series of improbable circumstances,
John Calvin found himself again in Scotland on a mission to rally the troops – the Christian churches of Scotland.
He almost singlehandedly organized them into an indigenous organization that would refuse to submit to outside authority.
Queen Mary was observed to say that of all the armies of Europe, she feared this one man, John Knox, more than any of them.
Because of the most profound theological understandings, John Knox argued, no earthly power could come between the Creator of the Universe, and Power of all that is,
the Great I Am of all that will be,
and the believer.
I gave them the same glory you gave me,
so that they may be one, just as you and I are one:
I in them and you in me, so that they may be completely one.
By 1560, all the congregations in Scotland became the Church of Scotland and organized itself according to a book of order that acknowledged God-granted power to individual believers and the collective body when they gathered.
The Scotsman and the Church of Scotland, the Presbyterians, became so focused, and were so dedicated that they gave the British fits for at least 200 years – some say, it still goes on after some 450 years!
By the time Presbyterians came to the new world they were so embedded with the ideas of individual self-worth and value, that much of the revolutionary ferment was endorsed and encouraged from the Presbyterian pulpits.
King George and others in parliament often referred to the American Revolution as the Presbyterian Rebellion.
It is not easy for us to understand what was going on in the sixteenth and seventeenth century in Scotland, England, and Europe.
Religious folk were engaged in very heady stuff.
Time and time again, people were seeing their religious beliefs as being more important than almost any thing else in their lives.
Time and time again, we see folks coming together to pledge their solidarity to one another because of their religious beliefs.
In 1560 this Scottish Confession of Faith was read to the Parliament of Scotland – line by line.
It is hard for us imagine such a thing, but in the end, all of the clan leaders,
all of the elected officials,
all of the church leaders,
adopted it and it became the basis for what was to become known as the Church of Scotland.
The adoption of this statement of beliefs by the government was taken very seriously.
Wars were fought to protect what they believed.
They were so empowered that they were never again to be subdued again in matters of faith.
People would rather be martyred than renege their faith statement.
For them, God was real.
Their faith was important.
It informed their whole way of life.
Life outside of faith was no life.
When I read this history, I wonder what happened?
I really don’t know if my faith is as strong as theirs.
I wonder if I would be so sure – as they were.
And yet, the history is there –
for us to read and ponder and wonder –
and provide inspiration.
Today's Gospel Lesson is part of a long prayer which Jesus prayed to the Father on the night before He died.
He lifted up His eyes to heaven and said ...
Father, I want everyone you have given me to be with me, wherever I am.
Then they will see the glory that you have given me, because you loved me before the world was created.
Then the love that you have for me will become part of them, and I will be one with them.
(Jn. 17:24,26).
Jesus' prayer is that we may become one with Him in His intimate union with the Father.
Jesus' prayer is that our intellectual assent to the existence of God be transformed into a deep personal experience of God.
Jesus' prayer is that our "I know there is a God"
be transformed into "I know God."
Jesus prayer is for us to know the Power of God's Love that is always working to transform darkness into light,
sorrow into joy,
turmoil into peace,
alienation into affection,
death into New Life.
I’ve told this story before – about being at the airport:
It was late afternoon and the main corridor was crowded with people going to and from their planes . . . .
Many were tired, and their faces reflected the tensions of a long day.
Tempers were edgy as they hurried along, trying to make connections or get to taxis.
An elderly woman, on her way to one of the gates, was being pushed along in a wheel-chair by one of the skycaps.
Suddenly, in a voice that boomed through the corridor, she cried out, "Good work, God!"
Nearly everyone within hearing distance turned toward the woman and saw that she was looking out the massive window lining one side of the corridor.
Their eyes followed her gaze and they saw a majestic sunset lighting up the sky.
And everything changed.
Smiles broke out on everyone’s faces.
Shoulders were squared and thrown back.
Steps were lighter.
The atmosphere of the entire place was transformed by the woman's observation:
"Good work, God!"
We can say "I know there is a God."
We can say "I know God."
We can even say, in response to a glorious sunset, "Good work, God!"
But if we are serious about wanting to become one with Christ in His intimate union with the Father,
if we are open to Him in this way,
surely we can almost hear Him saying,
"Move over everybody, I want to tell you more about God.
I want to tell you more about how pleased He was to bring you into being.
I want to tell you how He created each and every one of you in His own image and He saw that it was good."
If we are serious about wanting to become one with Christ, we must identify, heart and soul, with His ministry of reconciliation.
Without exception, we must relate to each other in a way that says,
"You are my brother in Christ;
you are my sister in Christ.
God created you in His own image and saw that it was good.
Good work, God!"
If we are serious about wanting to become one with Christ, we must relate to each other in a way that says, "I want to help bring out the best in you."
Robert Mitchum was asked on his thirtieth wedding anniversary, why his marriage had endured so long when those of so many of his show-business colleagues had failed.
Robert Mitchum answered, "Mutual forbearance. We have continued to believe that the other will do better tomorrow."
We know there is a God.
We know God.
We have experienced the Power of God's Love to bring out the best in us.
We know that by the forbearance and forgiveness of God,
we can do better today than we did yesterday.
We know that God is always working in our lives to bring out the best in us.
Good work, God!
Maybe you read about this eighty-eight-year-old woman, who went on a trip to Europe.
She said she "Wanted to have a last look around." When she returned home, she went to a seminary near her home and announced that she wanted to study Hebrew.
Now, Hebrew is kind of a tough language, and one of the Hebrew professors pointed out to her that she might not be capable of the tremendous effort it would take for a woman of her age to learn the Hebrew language.
She said, "Well, it's something I've been wanting to do for a long time. And now I know I've got to get at it quickly because I wish to be able to converse with the Creator in His native tongue."
Well, thank goodness, we don't need to learn Hebrew in order to converse with the Creator in His native tongue because God speaks to all of us in a universal language of love.
And that is the language we need to learn in order to converse with God in His native tongue.
And we need to converse with one another in the language of love if we are serious about becoming one with Christ in the ministry of calling forth the best from one another.
That’s what Presbyterians have been proclaiming for some 450 years.
That’s what this church has been proclaiming for over 85 years.
This informs everything we do here.
We are engaged in the ministry of calling forth the best from one another –
and the language we use is the language of love,
which, of course is a language not of words at all,
but a language of actions.
For in the end, if we are not feeding the hungry,
if we are not taking care of the infirm,
if we are not visiting the lonely,
if we are not making people whole,
if we are not meeting the needs of others, –
if we are not doing these things,
we have yet to get the truth of Jesus’ message and the Kingdom of God.
Again, we do these things not to gain favor with Jesus,
or to pass entrance exams into the Kingdom of God,
but because we get it –
we understand the message of Jesus –
we know our place in the universe and how we are so interconnected with others –
so that’s what we do.
It’s the Presbyterian way.
It’s the Christian way.
It’s Jesus’ way.
Let us again be known as people of the way.
Amen.
This sermon was a part of a worship service at Christ Presbyterian Church in Drexel Hill, Pennsylvania, USA, Sunday, May 29, 2011, by Clyde E. Griffith.
Their faith was important.
It informed their whole way of life.
Life outside of faith was no life.
Today, Presbyterian Churches are encouraged to give some consideration to our heritage.
As you may know, Presbyterians were among the earliest immigrants to America.
They settled up and down the east coast, and began to push westward into the American wilderness, founding congregations as early as the 1630s.
For the most part, these folks came from Scotland – some of whom stopped in Ireland first.
These folks from Scotland were a hardy lot – and they, as we might say, had been through the wars.
Maybe it is ingrained into their nature, but Scotsmen don’t like to be told to do things.
And when they heard about the teachings of this new Christianity that was being taught in Switzerland that seemed to empower individuals and their local congregations with unique authority – it was Katie, bar the door.
The Scotsmen resented England.
The Scotsmen resented Frenchmen.
The Scotsmen resented all attempts by the King of England to exert control over their local churches.
Their stubbornness and refusal to take orders from outside authority resulted in periodic excommunication of all the churches in Scotland by the pope.
(This would happen with some regularity through the years.)
The history of Britain and Scotland and their troubles with the church in Rome is the subject for another day, but by the time John Knox was born in Scotland around 1514, church troubles were brewing all around the countryside.
John Knox got caught in an early upheaval –
a demonstration by the common folks turned ugly when a group of them stormed a castle occupied by a bishop of Rome.
In the heat of the demonstration, the bishop was killed.
The demonstrators, for some reason, holed themselves up in the castle.
And there they were, kind of like the Alamo.
Isolated and out of touch with any outside suppliers of food and water.
The king appealed to his French family, and they came and stormed the castle in short order.
And this young Scottish firebrand, John Knox was taken prisoner.
As luck would have it, after a few years in captivity, he found himself in Geneva where he became a star pupil of John Calvin and observed first hand John Calvin’s vision of a theocratic government in the city of Geneva.
Through a series of improbable circumstances,
John Calvin found himself again in Scotland on a mission to rally the troops – the Christian churches of Scotland.
He almost singlehandedly organized them into an indigenous organization that would refuse to submit to outside authority.
Queen Mary was observed to say that of all the armies of Europe, she feared this one man, John Knox, more than any of them.
Because of the most profound theological understandings, John Knox argued, no earthly power could come between the Creator of the Universe, and Power of all that is,
the Great I Am of all that will be,
and the believer.
I gave them the same glory you gave me,
so that they may be one, just as you and I are one:
I in them and you in me, so that they may be completely one.
By 1560, all the congregations in Scotland became the Church of Scotland and organized itself according to a book of order that acknowledged God-granted power to individual believers and the collective body when they gathered.
The Scotsman and the Church of Scotland, the Presbyterians, became so focused, and were so dedicated that they gave the British fits for at least 200 years – some say, it still goes on after some 450 years!
By the time Presbyterians came to the new world they were so embedded with the ideas of individual self-worth and value, that much of the revolutionary ferment was endorsed and encouraged from the Presbyterian pulpits.
King George and others in parliament often referred to the American Revolution as the Presbyterian Rebellion.
It is not easy for us to understand what was going on in the sixteenth and seventeenth century in Scotland, England, and Europe.
Religious folk were engaged in very heady stuff.
Time and time again, people were seeing their religious beliefs as being more important than almost any thing else in their lives.
Time and time again, we see folks coming together to pledge their solidarity to one another because of their religious beliefs.
In 1560 this Scottish Confession of Faith was read to the Parliament of Scotland – line by line.
It is hard for us imagine such a thing, but in the end, all of the clan leaders,
all of the elected officials,
all of the church leaders,
adopted it and it became the basis for what was to become known as the Church of Scotland.
The adoption of this statement of beliefs by the government was taken very seriously.
Wars were fought to protect what they believed.
They were so empowered that they were never again to be subdued again in matters of faith.
People would rather be martyred than renege their faith statement.
For them, God was real.
Their faith was important.
It informed their whole way of life.
Life outside of faith was no life.
When I read this history, I wonder what happened?
I really don’t know if my faith is as strong as theirs.
I wonder if I would be so sure – as they were.
And yet, the history is there –
for us to read and ponder and wonder –
and provide inspiration.
Today's Gospel Lesson is part of a long prayer which Jesus prayed to the Father on the night before He died.
He lifted up His eyes to heaven and said ...
Father, I want everyone you have given me to be with me, wherever I am.
Then they will see the glory that you have given me, because you loved me before the world was created.
Then the love that you have for me will become part of them, and I will be one with them.
(Jn. 17:24,26).
Jesus' prayer is that we may become one with Him in His intimate union with the Father.
Jesus' prayer is that our intellectual assent to the existence of God be transformed into a deep personal experience of God.
Jesus' prayer is that our "I know there is a God"
be transformed into "I know God."
Jesus prayer is for us to know the Power of God's Love that is always working to transform darkness into light,
sorrow into joy,
turmoil into peace,
alienation into affection,
death into New Life.
I’ve told this story before – about being at the airport:
It was late afternoon and the main corridor was crowded with people going to and from their planes . . . .
Many were tired, and their faces reflected the tensions of a long day.
Tempers were edgy as they hurried along, trying to make connections or get to taxis.
An elderly woman, on her way to one of the gates, was being pushed along in a wheel-chair by one of the skycaps.
Suddenly, in a voice that boomed through the corridor, she cried out, "Good work, God!"
Nearly everyone within hearing distance turned toward the woman and saw that she was looking out the massive window lining one side of the corridor.
Their eyes followed her gaze and they saw a majestic sunset lighting up the sky.
And everything changed.
Smiles broke out on everyone’s faces.
Shoulders were squared and thrown back.
Steps were lighter.
The atmosphere of the entire place was transformed by the woman's observation:
"Good work, God!"
We can say "I know there is a God."
We can say "I know God."
We can even say, in response to a glorious sunset, "Good work, God!"
But if we are serious about wanting to become one with Christ in His intimate union with the Father,
if we are open to Him in this way,
surely we can almost hear Him saying,
"Move over everybody, I want to tell you more about God.
I want to tell you more about how pleased He was to bring you into being.
I want to tell you how He created each and every one of you in His own image and He saw that it was good."
If we are serious about wanting to become one with Christ, we must identify, heart and soul, with His ministry of reconciliation.
Without exception, we must relate to each other in a way that says,
"You are my brother in Christ;
you are my sister in Christ.
God created you in His own image and saw that it was good.
Good work, God!"
If we are serious about wanting to become one with Christ, we must relate to each other in a way that says, "I want to help bring out the best in you."
Robert Mitchum was asked on his thirtieth wedding anniversary, why his marriage had endured so long when those of so many of his show-business colleagues had failed.
Robert Mitchum answered, "Mutual forbearance. We have continued to believe that the other will do better tomorrow."
We know there is a God.
We know God.
We have experienced the Power of God's Love to bring out the best in us.
We know that by the forbearance and forgiveness of God,
we can do better today than we did yesterday.
We know that God is always working in our lives to bring out the best in us.
Good work, God!
Maybe you read about this eighty-eight-year-old woman, who went on a trip to Europe.
She said she "Wanted to have a last look around." When she returned home, she went to a seminary near her home and announced that she wanted to study Hebrew.
Now, Hebrew is kind of a tough language, and one of the Hebrew professors pointed out to her that she might not be capable of the tremendous effort it would take for a woman of her age to learn the Hebrew language.
She said, "Well, it's something I've been wanting to do for a long time. And now I know I've got to get at it quickly because I wish to be able to converse with the Creator in His native tongue."
Well, thank goodness, we don't need to learn Hebrew in order to converse with the Creator in His native tongue because God speaks to all of us in a universal language of love.
And that is the language we need to learn in order to converse with God in His native tongue.
And we need to converse with one another in the language of love if we are serious about becoming one with Christ in the ministry of calling forth the best from one another.
That’s what Presbyterians have been proclaiming for some 450 years.
That’s what this church has been proclaiming for over 85 years.
This informs everything we do here.
We are engaged in the ministry of calling forth the best from one another –
and the language we use is the language of love,
which, of course is a language not of words at all,
but a language of actions.
For in the end, if we are not feeding the hungry,
if we are not taking care of the infirm,
if we are not visiting the lonely,
if we are not making people whole,
if we are not meeting the needs of others, –
if we are not doing these things,
we have yet to get the truth of Jesus’ message and the Kingdom of God.
Again, we do these things not to gain favor with Jesus,
or to pass entrance exams into the Kingdom of God,
but because we get it –
we understand the message of Jesus –
we know our place in the universe and how we are so interconnected with others –
so that’s what we do.
It’s the Presbyterian way.
It’s the Christian way.
It’s Jesus’ way.
Let us again be known as people of the way.
Amen.
This sermon was a part of a worship service at Christ Presbyterian Church in Drexel Hill, Pennsylvania, USA, Sunday, May 29, 2011, by Clyde E. Griffith.
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